


Slow Dancing in a Drowning Room

by yeahImprettyawesome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Drarry Titanic AU, M/M, they're pretty mild tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4405496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahImprettyawesome/pseuds/yeahImprettyawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy knows that it's his responsibility to his family to aid them in any way he can, even if it means getting married and going across the pond.</p>
<p>Harry Potter is just a face in the crowd, until he gets the opportunity of a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Dancing in a Drowning Room

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh. I started this story a few months ago, but never finished it. I wanted to post in on ao3 when it was complete, but meh. I'm still gonna complete it, though I don't know in how long.

From the grimy window of a seedy pub, groans of disappointment and shouts of joy float out into a long been-silent street.

Inside, sitting around a crowded table, a dark haired man is smiling widely and a couple is hugging. Their ecstasy seems to be short-lived, though, because a buff man with a scarred eye growls “Not so soon, laddies. This isn’t done!”

The couple disengages and the woman speaks up.

“What do you mean? You’ve got nothing to bet and we played a fair game.”

The scarred man scowls at the men. “Quite the little lawyer, ain’t she? You should keep your omega bitches under better control.”

The ginger pushes out of his chair but the brunet pulls him back. “Calm down, Ron.” He turns to the scarred man. “Watch it, mate. We’re not looking for a fight but we won’t stand you talking that way.” He pushes Ron towards the woman, who looks more anxious by the minute. “Hermione, take care of Ron.”

From the bar, the owner speaks up. “No fighting inside the house. You wanna show off your alpha cocks, take it outside. Jim, don’t be an asshole. Harry, boy, sit down and relax.”

All of them grudgingly do so. “So what did you mean, Jim? What else do you wanna lose to us?” Harry grins cockily.

Jim procures three slips of paper from his pocket and places them on the dust caked table.

“Go on, look what it is.” He tells the bewildered trio. Harry reaches out for the papers. His eyes widen behind his round rimmed glasses as he reads them.

“Ron, Mione, these are tickets to the Titanic!”

“What? Harry! Let me see!” Hermione exclaims as Ron makes to grab them from Harry.

“Not yet!” Jim snatches the tickets away from them. “One more game. Winner takes all.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione look at each other, having a silent conversation that culminates in matching grins.

“All right, we’ll play.” Harry says.

Ron looks over to the rest of the people at the table. “What about the rest of you? Are you in?” There are uneasy mutterings and the table is soon nearly unoccupied.

“Reckon it’s just us, Jim, and the dealer then. Deal out the cards.”

The dealer, who had until then been watching the exchange with interest, doles out the cards.

“Alright. This is the moment of truth. Ron, what’ve you got?”

“3 of a kind.”

“Mione?”

“2 pairs.”

“And Jimmy boy?”

“Don’t call me that, you chit. I’ve got full house.” He grins triumphantly.

“And you, sir?” Harry finally asks the dealer. “Flush.”

“Then, Ron, Mione?”

“Yeah, mate?”

“Pack your bags, cause we’re going to America! Royal flush, sucker!”

 

* * *

 

 

A young blond man hurries through a corridor adorned with richly tapestried walls, stumbling too many times to count, dodging out of servants’ ways, until he finally comes to a stop in front of large, polished double doors. He’s about to wrench them open, but the voices coming from the inside stop him.

“Narcissa-”

The dialogue turns into a hacking cough. Sounds of fumbling. “Here, have some water.”

“Thank you. When will Draco get here?”

“He should be here by now. I’ll ask the butler to telephone his Academy-”

“No, wait. Listen. Mr. Flint was asking after him some time ago. I hear he’s looking for a suitable omega for his son, Marcus, I believe. There can be a good match between Draco and Marcus.”

“The Flints? They’re practically royalty. Are you sure it would be an appropriate match?”

“Draco is the model omega. Anyone will be lucky to claim him.” There’s a hint of pride in Lucius’ statement, like the time he speaks of one his racehorses winning a derby. “Perhaps it will also stabilize our financial position.”

The man on the other side does open the door then. “Father.” The people in the room turn towards him.

“Welcome home, dear.” Narcissa greets him politely.

“Ah, Draco, come sit by me for a while.” Draco moves forward and occupies a chair by the bed holding Lucius.

“I trust you heard our discussion clearly enough through the door, so I will not bother explaining again.”

Draco looks up then, eyes wide with fear. Lucius smiles. “I did a great deal of eavesdropping in my time as well. You’re far too indiscrete.”

Draco flinches slightly at the flippant criticism. “I-I’m not a bargaining chip, Father.”

“No, but if you wish to lead the same quality of life as you do now, you must do as you’re advised, Draco.” All three people present in the room know that ‘advised’ is a euphemism for ‘ordered’.

Draco bows his head. “I understand, Father.”

“Excellent. You may leave now to make preparations for the evening. The Flints are coming to dinner.”

“Be sure to wear something nice, darling.” Narcissa adds.

Draco clenches his fists and leaves the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Do let me know what you think! Reviews go a long way in motivation! :) Also, feel free to point out any and all mistakes.


End file.
